


House Beautiful by Peruvian Gypsy

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Simon comes by to drop off some files, he takes notice of the changes in the loft since Blair has been in Jim's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Beautiful by Peruvian Gypsy

These characters belong to Pet Fly not me, and I'm only doing this for fun. Rated G. 

## House Beautiful

by Peruvian Gypsy  


"Wow." Simon Banks stood in the doorway with a file in his hand, surveying his detective's apartment. He hadn't been here since Sandburg had moved in, and from the tales of woe Jim had been dishing out, he'd expected total chaos. 

Not that he could've imagined any chaos in the controlled Ellison's loft -- there wasn't enough stuff in the place to *make* a mess! Just a place so empty it echoed slightly, and always left a lingering feeling of depression behind after he'd finished visiting. 

"C'mon in, Simon, you want a beer?" Jim offered, already going to the refrigerator. 

"Uh...yeah, thanks," he answered distractedly. He wondered when Jim had gotten the paint job done. There was a fire going in the fireplace, lending a warm, homey glow to the revamped loft that hadn't even been there when Carolyn was in residence. 

Jim handed Simon a bottle of beer, and Simon remembered to turn over the files he'd been dropping off on his way home from work. 

"Where's Sandburg?" Simon asked as he took a fortifying drink. 

Jim perched on the edge of the -- new -- kitchen table. "Oh, he had a lecture to attend at the University. He'll be home about nine." 

Home. Yeah, that's what it was. Now. Simon made a show of looking around. "You've really fixed the place up, Jim. It looks great." Or was it Blair's work? Now that was an interesting question. It was hard to imagine Jim turning over control of his personal space like that. Especially with all the bitching he did about the kid's disruptive presence. 

Jim followed his gaze, shrugging slightly. "Just a few modifications." 

Now *that* was a gross understatement. "Those bookcases are new, aren't they?" 

"Those old things? Picked them up at a yard sale somewhere. Hey, it was either buy more bookcases, or put up with Sandburg's textbooks lying all over the place." 

"What about his room?" Simon asked skeptically, glancing towards the new, beautiful polished wood and glass door. 

Jim sighed a martyred sigh. "I've given up trying to keep his mess from spilling out, Simon. It's a lost cause." 

//So are you, my friend.// Simon smiled. "Didn't the kid have a curtain across the doorway?" 

"Oh yeah, and I had to put up with listening to that weird music of his all the time! I finally got fed up and put up the door, so I could have some peace and quiet. Not to mention privacy." 

Simon looked again at the door, skeptically, wondering how a door with all those glass windows could be so sound proof -- to anyone, much less someone with a sentinel's hearing. It was too aesthetically pleasing to be there for merely sound-blocking reasons. Privacy? Not will all that glass, despite the curtains. 

Simon was becoming more and more amused. "That table looks like it cost a bundle," he commented, gesturing to the table Jim leaned against. 

"The last one was broken during one of those 'trash Ellison's place' cases," he grinned. "Gotta have a place to eat, right?" 

"If you say so, Jim." 

"Simon -- you don't know what I've had to put up with since he moved in," Jim complained, although without much vehemence. 

"I can well imagine," Simon returned mildly, realizing that the place felt so inviting now that he wanted to prolong his stay instead of running out as quickly as possible. He started puttering around, snooping with a cop's eye. A nature calender was on the wall, and this month had a breathtaking view of the Cascade mountains. He happened to notice a notation on one of the days, raised eyebrows at Jim. "*Tupperware* party -- eight pm??" 

Jim finally had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Self preservation, Simon." 

"Excuse me?" 

"I told you guys about the weird crap he eats! The other day I nearly ate some ostrich meat thinking it was hamburger! So I've had to uh, well, color code the left overs." 

Unable to resist, Simon went to the refrigerator and opened it. Sure enough, stacked (very neatly) on the shelves were different color containers. He closed the door again. "I give up." 

"Huh?" 

"By the way, Jim..." He paused before delivering his coupe, looking around once last time. "I thought this thing with Sandburg staying here was just supposed to be temporary? A week, wasn't it?" 

Apparently, by the silence that had descended, Ellison hadn't yet come up with an excuse for that one. 

"Ah, well, he, uh, that is... The quicker he finishes his dissertation the quicker I can get him out of my hair, and him living here gives us more time for that sentinel research he needs to do." 

Simon nodded. "Of course." For something that was only going to be temporary, if of longish duration, Jim had certainly been making some big changes in his life. And *himself*, Simon realized with a sudden, startling shock of intuition. The man before him was a different one from the distant loner he'd watched slowly self-destructing for years. The cop he'd worried would get himself killed with his 'I don't need anyone' attitude. It was amazing. And Blair Sandburg was the obvious cause. That being the case, Simon could care less about the implications. This, whatever it was exactly, was a *good* thing. 

"Well, I'd better hit the road," he said regretfully, starting towards the door. "I've got Darryl this weekend -- and I need to rest up for that!" 

Jim shared his laughter, seeing him out. "Thanks for dropping off those files. Saves me a trip downtown." 

"No problem." He turned back and clasped Jim's shoulder briefly. "Would you accept a word of advice from an old friend?" 

"Depends," Jim answered mildly, but with a trace of wariness. 

"Don't ever let him go. He's good for you." 

Before Jim had a chance to respond, Simon was gone.  
  


* * *

Use your browser's back feature to return to your story selections or start a [new search](http://b-b-t.mit.edu/SXF/cgi-bin/senslash/storysearch.cgi).

2/14/97

 


End file.
